


Not Done Yet

by swordfischh



Category: Megalo Box (Anime)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Spoilers, not really enemies but rivals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-06-11 23:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordfischh/pseuds/swordfischh
Summary: Spoilers for the anime ahead.Although he was able to fight his way up and into the final rounds of Megalonia, with the tournament over and the excitement dying down, Joe was finding himself a little lost. For him, it was always about the fight, not the fame or fortune. His fight was over - but he couldn't help but think of the man who inspired it all. Yuri seemed to believe in Joe, and Joe's need to prove himself to Yuri pushed him to heights greater than he could have ever imagined. What would come of their rivalry now that it was all over? Joe wasn't sure, but he did know he wanted to see Yuri again.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This is the first fic I’ve ever posted, and I’m pretty nervous lol. The outline for this story is done but I need to actually write each chapter in full detail and I plan to update as regularly as is possible. I love these two and their chemistry so much, and I adore Megalo Box. This is my imagining of what might happen after the last match. This is the first time I’ve gotten the balls to post anything I’ve written, but I noticed there wasn't a lot for this fandom and wanted to contribute. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Staring at the pavement wasn’t going to change anything, but Joe sat there, still, on the cold uncomfortable curb outside of the massive hospital. It was a surprisingly cool summer night. Joe shivered and wrung his sore hands together, an indication for the observant that he was stressed.

_What am I doing?_

About an hour before, Joe had been ‘escorted’ out of the hospital. He realized that it was no exaggeration that security would actually throw a person out if they felt it necessary. He hadn’t even put up much of a fight, but he assumed his new title encouraged their rough handling of him, perhaps out of fear or defensiveness. It couldn’t bother him very much tonight, though.

Joe sighed, and glimpsed at his watch to see a faint “01:26”. The black digits flashed repeatedly, taunting him. It was late, but he had gotten what he wanted, he supposed.

He hoisted himself up, his body still aching from the brutal fight that had taken place just hours ago back in the ring, though it felt like it had been days. Joe was also sore from being so enthusiastically escorted by the hospital security. He dug a hand into his pocket to pull out his motorcycle keys, and turned to look at the immense building behind him.

He kicked at the curb uselessly.

“Damn it.”

~~~

Just a few hours earlier, Joe had been standing at the front desk of the arrival ward in the hospital.

“Who are you here to see, sir?” The young nurse eyed Joe with the wariness of a small, easily-frightened dog.

“Yuri. He was admitted tonight. About two hours ago, maybe.” Joe bit his lip. He should’ve come sooner.

“Last name?”

“Uh…” Joe realized he had no idea.

”The boxer?” The nurse questioned.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“What is your relationship to him?” The nurse’s voice was clinical but laced with a note of strained politeness.

“A… friend.” Joe hopes his mild hesitation doesn’t give reason to question him.

The nurse typed quickly, her narrowed eyes searching the screen before her momentarily. A few times she lifted her hand to press the touch screen. Eventually, her gaze returned to Joe.

“Hm. I’m sorry but he isn’t available for visiting currently.”

“What? Why? I thought visiting hours were still open?”

The nurse looked up, her expression hesitant.

“Well, yes. But to family only. It’s quite late, and Mr. Yuri was only recently admitted as well, so visitors are highly restricted at this time. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back in a few days.”

“Days?!” Joe’s sudden, loud tone startled some of the nearby workers and made the nurse jolt slightly as well. Joe quickly reigned himself in, not wanting to make a spectacle out of this, more than he already had. Some eyes in the room lingered on him, and he glared back at a few before quieting his voice and facing the nurse again. “Can’t you make an exception? I have I.D. …”

“No exceptions. I apologize but it just doesn’t work that way.” She was beginning to look tired and impatient.

One of Joe’s fists clenched hard on the front desk, and the nurse evidently felt some pity for him. He knew he looked exhausted, not to mention the mess of the bruises and cuts all over his face. It seemed to dawn on her then that he was also a boxer, perhaps the very one who had put Yuri into the hospital.

“He’s in good hands,” she said. Clearly she had detected Joe’s concern, but she was also trying to diffuse some of the anger he was radiating.

Without responding, Joe turned away from the desk and headed for the black armchairs to the side of the waiting area. The nurse watched him and was opening her mouth to speak, but was distracted by a co-worker who began talking to her. Whatever it was about must’ve been serious judging by the looks on their faces. Joe couldn’t even imagine what working in a hospital would be like, but it sure seemed like hell.

He eased into one of the plush waiting room chairs, slumping back a bit into the semi-flattened cushions. He felt somewhat out of place, looking around and wondering what those around him were doing there too. Especially in a hospital like this. The place was fairly high end, in a neighbourhood not too far from the Megalonia Stadium. Everything was polished, automatic, and well looked after.  In spite of that, the hospital still had the typical mood one might expect.

 _Everyone always looks so_ _worn out in these places_ , he thought, and wondered what he looked like to everyone else.

 _Probably like shit_ , he mused, knowing his face was quite battered from the match earlier, and all those which had lead up to it. He wasn’t exactly in the best shape, but appearances didn’t faze him, and they probably shouldn’t faze a guy who makes a living out of beating the shit out of people and getting the shit beaten out of him too.

Joe knew that sitting in the waiting room wasn’t going to get him to Yuri any faster than simply coming back in several days, but he wasn’t counting on it regardless. He knew he had to do something else. Something that the new “Megalo Box Champion” shouldn’t be doing, but Joe never really cared for the title anyways.

His whole damn reason for joining the competition was lying in a bed somewhere in this hospital, in an unknown condition.

 _That I put him in_ , Joe reminded himself with a grimace.

A few minutes passed since his conversation with the nurse at the desk, and Joe noticed she was sufficiently distracted, so he stood up and meandered inconspicuously toward the hallway he had seen several doctors coming from before.

 _Maybe they will mistake me for a patient_ , Joe hoped to himself, steeling his nerves and walking with false confidence into the hallway and out of sight of the waiting room.

Having no idea where he was going but for a gut feeling, Joe tried not to walk too quickly lest he attract unwanted attention. There were a few confused looks from passersby, but he stopped noticing as he began looking for any indication of Yuri’s presence. He overheard one passing nurse speaking to another.

“That new patient in H ward, you know, the one everyone was talking about? He came straight from that tournament. I knew I recognized him.”

Joe’s eyes widened and he sped up his pace, his mind reeling. _What if Yuri_ _is…_

Yuri had passed out in the ring, and it had looked like he couldn’t even move, Joe recalled. He walked briskly down the hall, his mind occupied with those worrying images of Yuri from before. Luckily the tail end of the ward seemed less crowded, and Joe was feeling like he might be in the clear, until a voice called out to him.

“Sir, where are you going?”

Joe stopped in his tracks, almost stumbling over his own feet trying to halt his momentum.

He didn’t turn to face the source of the voice behind him. If he revealed himself, his chance to see Yuri might be blown completely if it wasn’t already. He only turned his head very slightly, to show acknowledgment.

“Just heading back to my room,” he lied. He knew the nurse wasn’t going to buy it but he’d try anyways.

“Is that so? Where are your hospital robes?” The nurse looked skeptical. “You’re in bad shape. You should’ve been out of those clothes by now.” The woman’s voice was equal parts concerned and suspicious.

One of Joe’s fingers twitched, his senses telling him to run. Instead, he turned a little more, taking a chance. He relaxed his shoulders and mustered a sheepish expression. If there was anything that Joe could do besides fighting, it was bluffing. It was completely feasible that both Megalo boxers were being treated for injuries, right?

“My bad. To be honest, I actually asked my nurse if I could go have a smoke before I got all fixed up. He’s just over there, he’ll tell you.”

Joe had no idea who the man was that he was vaguely gesturing towards, but he was just a few steps behind the female nurse who was questioning him, and wearing scrubs as well. He prayed that the man really was a nurse.

Amazingly, the nurse believed him enough to turn to give the unsuspecting man a disappointed look. Joe didn’t waste a second, immediately pivoting on his foot and booking it away from the scene.

 _Oh well_ , _I tried_ , Joe thought easily, sprinting down the hall and busting abruptly into the H ward through a pair of double doors. The sound of his dirty sneakers screeching against the polished floors only mildly drowned out the people yelling behind him. Joe was no stranger to running, and getting away at that. His not so healthy childhood had trained the habit into him.

It was a bit of a chase, but to Joe it was all a blur until he miraculously caught a glimpse of Yuri’s name on a clipboard beside a door. How he saw such a small thing going at the pace he was, he couldn’t explain. It was near instinctual, a gut feeling.

A couple of workers were now trailing behind him at a distance. They were doing a very typical stress-induced strut down the hall, not wanting to run and frighten patients or cause alarm, nor wanting to let a random roughed up man wander their workplace and do God-knows-what.

Joe couldn’t care less about them, taking a deep breath as he pushed the slightly ajar door open.

Yuri lay sleeping, hooked up to all kinds of machinery like some kind of cyborg. There was a brace around his neck; in fact it seemed his whole top half was being held by some kind of torso brace, though it was hard to tell for sure. A light sheet covered the middle and lower portions of Yuri’s body. Joe was silent, his eyes inspecting the deep purple bruises decorating Yuri’s delicate and pale skin.

This time, Yuri looked even worse than before, Joe thought. Even worse than when he showed up in the ring with very fresh and still-scarring wounds where his gear used to be.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as seeing the man laying curled and vulnerable on the floor of the ring, not waking or moving long after those exhilarating, terrifying ten seconds... The memory of it pained Joe, for some reason.

Wasn’t he supposed to be happy about winning? Isn’t this what they both wanted?

“How did you get here?” A woman’s frustrated voice snapped Joe out of his trance.

Joe hadn’t realized he was having all of these thoughts, his eyes trained on Yuri, while a doctor - who Joe hadn’t even noticed until a moment ago, who was also in the room apparently - was questioning him. She was clearly taken off guard and unimpressed with his presence. He wondered how many times she’d spoken to him before he noticed.

“You shouldn’t be in here, visiting hours are over.” The doctor stated sternly, but she appeared rather tired, pushing her glasses back into place on the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t yet made any moves towards him, for which Joe was grateful.

Joe’s tired eyes shifted back onto Yuri, examining him. Were his scars always that red?

“What’s wrong with him? Is he in a coma? Is he… ?” His voice trailed off, but Joe’s face showed his concern unabashedly.

The doctor appeared to be unsure of Joe. She contemplated not saying anything more to him, considering that he was technically trespassing, but she could see desperation in his face that made her decide to answer him.

“He isn’t dying, if that’s what you were going to say… He’s in a drug-induced sleep state to reduce pain and restrict movement while we deal with the initial injuries. Tomorrow morning we will perform a surgery to mend what we can.” She looked down at Yuri, whose lower face was covered with a transparent oxygen mask.  Joe’s eyes lowered to the floor. The doctor pressed a button on her earpiece and spoke quietly but concisely.

“Security to YH10.”

Joe grimaced, his brows furrowing as he glared at the doctor.

“What is wrong with you people?” His voice rumbled out like a growl, his characteristic slum dialect in full force.

“I told you, you shouldn’t be he-“

“I put him here!” Joe snapped, raising his voice and gesturing towards Yuri on the bed.

That was a bit more composure lost than he intended. Somewhere in the back of his mind Joe wondered what was fuelling such anger within him.

“Yes, I’m aware of who you are, ‘Gearless Joe’.  However, I’m afraid that doesn’t change protocol. He needs rest and medical attention. I told you all you need to know and more. Come back in a week.”

“So it’s a week now?!” Joe exclaimed, his mouth dropping open.  Just as the words left his mouth, a set of strong arms wrapped around his own from behind, pulling Joe’s arms behind his back and knocking him slightly off-balance. The grab forced him to lean back on his heels.

“Don’t struggle,” came a deep voice.

 _Ah,_ Joe thought. _So that’s why they took so long to catch up._ _They waited for the biggest guy to get here._ Joe grinned slightly at that and shook his head. He shifted his arms for a moment in an attempt to free himself, but the guard held tight.

 Joe quickly relented, realizing it was not the place nor time for a brawl, and in the same room as Yuri at that. The guard’s arms tightened further.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath, his eyes wandering back to Yuri.

Another large man in a security uniform came in and grabbed hold of Joe a little too firmly, but he had given in already.

“Oi, ease up, would you?” Joe complained, irritated. The guards ignored him.

Together, the two began to maneuver Joe out of the room.

The doctor watched on with concern, and piped up just before everyone left the room.

“Let him rest, and he’ll be fine.” It was her final reassurance, trying to somehow soothe Joe.

“He better be.” Joe threatened, as he was ushered out of the room.

The doctor was used to worried loved ones saying such things, and brushed it off easily. Those of his type were often all bark and no bite anyways, despite how they appeared on the outside. Watching an important person in one’s life suffer could bring out a whole spectrum of emotion in an individual, and recognizing that was a part of a doctor’s training.

She was grateful for the quiet that fell upon the room then, aside from the oxygen machine’s steadying mechanical breaths. She let out a deep breath as well, grounding herself.

Now that the ruckus was over, she picked up a vial from the side table and began drawing out some liquid into a needle. She tested the stability of the IV in Yuri’s wrist, and looked up to his bruised face briefly.

“Oh… so he did wake you, hm?” she mumbled softly, a subtle smile on her lips. She felt happy to see her patient gaining some consciousness again. Moderate to severe brain injuries were always a concern for boxers.

Yuri’s bloodshot and glassy eyes blinked weakly up at her a few times. They wandered the room around him, lingering at the door just before closing again.

 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe comes home after an attempt to visit Yuri in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time has passed incredibly fast and apologies for not updating in so long. For those of you that read this I hope you enjoy it. Apologies also for the lack of interaction between our mains but uh, it does say slow burn right... (I'm impatient too). I still love these boxing boys so very much. Let me know what you think if you so desire. Your comments last time were lovely and really helped push me to continue. I've already started ch. 3 and I hope and plan to have it up sooner this time (fingers crossed). 
> 
> Thanks to my good friends and fellow writers @midoriverte and @sondeneige for reading over and editing this and making sure I don't make a complete fool of myself. I love you guys.

It was about two-thirty in the morning when Joe finally made his way back home.

He eased himself onto the swaying houseboat and closed the door. With a quiet grunt, he let his bag slip off his shoulder and thump onto the floor. He pulled his goggles off with care, minding his aching face, and pushed his thick curly hair back into some semblance of a hairdo, if you could call it that. He headed further inside and flicked on a lamp, only to see Nanbu passed out on the couch, his head tilted back with a line of drool running down his chin. Sachio was curled up against the arm of the other side.

The lamplight seemed to rouse Nanbu however, who snorted in a breath and woke himself up further.

“What’s-ah! Who’s it …” He paused a moment, listening.

“Joe? Is that you?” Nanbu struggled to right himself, still half-asleep and wiping at his chin.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“J-Joe?” Sachio shifted, woken from the noise and squinting his eyes open.

“Joe! Where’d you go?” Nanbu asked, beginning to show some clarity and wakefulness. Joe couldn’t blame the man for wondering where he took off to after the match.

“The hospital.”

“The hospital? What hospital?” Nanbu echoed.

Joe went quiet.

“... I woulda gone with you Joe. You didn’t have to go alone,” he murmured softly.

Sachio’s eyes were open now, blinking slow as he took in the scene. It didn’t take long for him to jump up off the couch and rocket towards Joe, slamming into the front of his legs. Joe stumbled back a little, wincing.

“Why’d you go without us!? We were worried about you, you idiot!” Sachio yelled.  Joe wasn’t sure if the kid was trying to hit or hug him, or a little of both.

“Sorry, guys. I was…” Joe mumbled back, unable to figure out how to explain himself.

“We’re a team, you can’t just, just, leave us like-“

“Sachio.” Nanbu spoke sternly. “Be careful, he’s still hurt.”

Sachio clutched the back of Joe’s coat in his fists, looking back at Nanbu and then up at Joe with watery eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sachio. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Joe gently extricated himself from Sachio’s grip, patting his head as he limped into the kitchen. Sachio made a “tch” under his breath, scrubbing at his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

Nanbu turned toward Joe’s new location, his ears sharp as ever. Joe grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it up with tap water.

“You don’t look like you went to the hospital,” Sachio grumbled accusingly, crossing his arms.

 Joe leaned back against the kitchen counter. Crossed an ankle over the other.

“He didn’t go for treatment,” Nanbu stated, something tentative in his voice. “Isn’t that right, Joe?”

Joe stared into his cup before gulping down most of the water he had poured. A droplet snuck out from the side of his lips, which Joe wiped away carefully, trying to avoid any sore spots on his face.

Can’t get anything past Nanbu, apparently, even if the man is newly blind. Though he did feel some relief, not wanting to explain himself nor knowing how he would start in the first place. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did what he did either. He simply felt he had to go to see Yuri, to check on him. There wasn’t much more to it.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

Sachio tilted his head. Nanbu grunted and nodded knowingly. “How is Yuri, then?” Nanbu cut to the chase. He could be pretty intuitive at times.

“Yuri…?” Sachio whispered, trying to catch up. “You saw Yuri?”

Joe swirled the remaining water around in his cup and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Kinda. He had a lot of machines around him, some sort of brace on his neck and one on his back,” Joe rubbed at his good eye, exhaustion overtaking him now that he was back at home. “The doctor said they were gonna do some kind of surgery, tomorrow morning. Or this morning I guess. Probably something to do with his gear removal.” It was the most Joe had said since he got home, and the other two took notice.

Nanbu nodded along, but there was a something in the air that unsettled him. “A surgery,” he pondered out loud, tapping a finger on his thigh. “Hm...”

Joe stared down aimlessly into his glass, then at his feet. The silence weighed heavily on his exhausted shoulders. His whole body felt like lead.

Nanbu had been around Joe long enough to know when he was bothered by something, something that wasn’t just typical injury pains.  Predictably, he stood up, walked around the couch and faced Joe in the kitchen.

“Don’t tell me kid, did you _want_ to lose or something? What’s goin’ on?” Nanbu clearly couldn’t believe he even had to ask such a thing, sounding a bit exasperated, his hands held out in confusion. “You won Megalonia, damn it.”

There was a beat of silence before Joe cracked a small half-grin, shaking his head. It still hadn’t quite sunk in.

“No, of course not. That’d be crazy,” Joe chuckled, some warmth coming back to his voice. “I didn’t do all this for nothing. Who do you think I am, old man?”

Sachio smiled a bit, looking hopefully at the two of them. Nanbu sighed dramatically, scratching his head, the tension in the room dissolving somewhat.

“Stop trying to be some lone wolf kid, we were seriously worried. You’re lucky you won Megalonia or I’d be more on your ass about this.”

Joe stood up as straight as he could, downing the rest of his water and placing the glass on the counter.

“I think this has been plenty,” Joe said with a lopsided smirk, the swelling of his face making for an amusing sight that Nanbu definitely wouldn’t have let him live down if he could actually see it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nanbu shook his head, hearing the playfulness of Joe’s tone and grinning. He relaxed, noticing that the tension in Joe had dissipated.

Sachio snickered, having snuck into the kitchen behind Nanbu too. “Nice face,” he sneered.

“Oi, have some respect for your elders,“ Joe started toward Sachio, his hand held out towards him with his thumb and index fingers flexed, ready to pinch. Sachio ducked further behind Nanbu with a giggle.

“I do gotta say though,” Nanbu interrupted, lifting a hand between them. The seriousness of his tone didn’t go unnoticed. Joe paused, but he had an idea of what Nanbu was about to say.

“You shouldn’t be worrying so much, Joe. Yuri is a boxer too. He was _the_ Megalo boxing champion, until _you_ came along. Every boxer knows what he’s getting into, and if he doesn’t, then he’s an amateur or a fool. This ain’t a sport for the weak. Death is always on the horizon… You know that too. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. Believe me.”

“I’m sure Yuri’s got plenty of cash to spare to get him fixed up just fine.” Nanbu wasn’t actually sure, and all of them knew there was a pretty huge grey area regarding the removal of integrated gear considering the newness of the technology, but he wasn’t about to give Joe more to worry about.

“You earned this. With your blood, sweat, and tears, kid. Don’t feel bad for doing what you were both meant to do. Somebody had to win.” Nanbu stepped forward, closer to Joe, and his hand found Joe’s shoulder with ease. The side of Joe’s lips quirked up, his chest feeling full.

“I’m proud of you Joe. You made it against all odds. Maybe all those punches knocked a few screws loose up there, but I hope you never forget that moment when you first stood,” Nanbu raised his hands and parted them like a banner in the air, “Megalonia Champion.”

There was a moment of silence before Joe let out a burst of laughter. Sachio’s own giggles followed not seconds later.

“Corny as ever, Nanbu,” Joe teased.

“You’re so lame, pops,” Sachio added in.

“Eh? Don’t laugh at me you little shits! Let me be proud!”

It may have sounded like berating, but Nanbu couldn’t stop himself from smiling. The feeling was contagious, and he grabbed Joe with one arm and Sachio with the other, pulling them into a tight hug just like in some sappy old movie they’d watched one time.

“You with me on this kid?” Nanbu said, leaning his head towards Joe, his voice sounding rather sentimental.

“You know I always am.” Joe patted Nanbu’s back, reassuring him. It wasn’t often Nanbu showed his emotional side.

“I’m here too!” Sachio called up from below, “Don’t forget me, damn it! I helped too!”

“I couldn’t forget you if I tried, Sachio,” Joe grinned down at him, his voice teasing. Sachio had a look of mixed admiration and indignation on his face as he stared back up at Joe. Of course, Nanbu couldn’t let the borderline heartfelt moment last too long.

“Yeah, you’re too damn loud!” he exclaimed, “Nobody can forget!” Nanbu gave Sachio a smack on the back as the boy grumbled at him, “ _You’re_ the loud one, old man…”

“Alright you two. I’m just about ready to keel over,” Joe said through a yawn, pulling out of their haphazard group hug gently.

“Surprised you haven’t yet,” Nanbu retorted. “And I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow whether you like it or not.” The large man nodded to himself. Joe sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth fighting him on, and he probably had a point anyways.

“Whatever you want.”

“Good. Now go get some rest.” Nanbu smiled again, just about beaming with pride. “You earned it, Champ.”

Nanbu’s pride in him was hard to ignore. It wasn’t that Joe didn’t appreciate it, though. Over the past three months, Nanbu had encouraged him relentlessly and developed genuine faith in Joe’s ability that wasn’t fueled by his own interests alone.

Although they had had a few bumps along the way, things felt different now. Joe could feel it in his coach’s words and disposition.

It was as if a weight had been lifted from all of them, but particularly Nanbu. Joe could say he truly admired the old grumpy guy now. He wasn’t happy that he had gone and ripped out his own eye, and the thought still made Joe cringe and question Nanbu’s wellness, but he couldn’t help but respect him.

Joe returned Nanbu’s smile.

“All right, old man. Night.”

“Night, Joe.”

“Night Joe!” Sachio echoed.

Nanbu’s head turned quickly in Sachio’s direction.

“You’re going too, kid!”

~~~

When he was all washed up, in his sleep shorts, and Sachio had forcibly applied some ointment onto his wounds, Joe headed up the rickety wooden ladder to their shared room upstairs. The ladder creaked loudly with each movement, but stepping carefully was difficult in the darkness of their houseboat. He had to take it slow or he might end up with even more injuries.

Joe climbed up onto the top floor and saw a little lump on one of the futons that had been dragged across the modest room. He kneeled forward, quietly, and noticed it was Sachio, curled into a little ball on one side. The kid had headed upstairs just a bit earlier. Joe couldn’t help the small smile on his lips, as Sachio had clearly moved his futon to be beside Joe’s.

He crawled onto his own futon and sat on it for a little while. He looked over to the kid next to him, who had quickly fallen right back asleep despite Joe’s disruption when he had come home.

Moonlight shone in from the window, painting their small bedroom in a soft blue light. Joe watched Sachio snore lightly, wishing he could fall asleep that easily, like a kid. Stress, overthinking, and injuries tended to keep him up nowadays, though he felt at peace next to the boy.

He might be a snotty little kid at times, but Sachio had quickly become like family to him and Nanbu. If Joe was being honest, Sachio had brought him and Nanbu closer together too. The kid had been with them the whole time, and Joe knew the journey couldn’t have been the same without him. It wasn’t Joe’s journey alone, it was theirs too.

When he finally lay down and his head hit the pillow, Joe let out a breath he felt he’d been holding for years, and closed his eyes.

_“Stop worrying, Joe.”_

Nanbu’s words echoed in his mind, followed by a littered stream of his most recent memories of Yuri.

Yuri lying in a sterile hospital bed, unconscious, connected to machines. Lying on the floor of the ring, dripping blood. Bruised. Scarred.

Joe squeezed his eyes shut harder, trying to erase or at least blur the images if only for a little while, and turned onto his side with a wince.

Maybe he was worrying too much. He’d never worried about his opponents in the past like this, even if they did get along well, so why now?

~~~

The next morning was more normal than Joe had expected to feel after winning the match of his career. Of course, it was only natural that life would return to normal.

It had only been one night since the last match of Megalonia, but something in Joe felt alight in a way he hadn’t before.

And yet he still stared at that familiar ceiling, lay in that same old futon, in some form of pain wrought out of him from his time in the ring. Still heard the voices of Sachio and Nanbu downstairs, bickering about something unimportant, as they tended to do.

It was all awash in something, some atmosphere that Joe couldn’t pinpoint, as though a filter was cast over his senses.

A loud call from below startled Joe out of his sleepy contemplation.

“Joe, wake up!” Sachio’s voice rang out, shrill in Joe’s ears so soon after waking up. The kid was good at being an alarm, that much was certain. Joe turned over, albeit with some painful effort, and tried to get a few more minutes of rest. The sudden yell, however, had called the attention of Joe’s nose to a particularly welcoming scent wafting up from the first floor.

“We made breakfast!” Sachio yelled again, winding himself. Joe sniffed the air, the warm scent of pancakes and simmering bacon curling in his nose and making his dry mouth water. Well now he _had_ to get up. He groaned in response, just loud enough for Sachio to hear from the bottom of the ladder.

~~~

The morning passed like most usually did, but that strange feeling he had upon waking wouldn’t quite let up. He scarfed down more pancakes and bacon than his body could handle, knowing he no longer had to worry about pacing himself or not making himself sick when training later in the morning. Sachio and Nanbu ate heartily as well, and between the three of them, nobody left a morsel uneaten.  

Joe was only permitted about thirty minutes of post-breakfast food coma bliss until Nanbu was at him again (and when wasn’t he), forcing Joe off the couch and into their crappy truck to head out to the doctor’s office.

Joe never liked seeing the doctor, never liked being examined like a test subject, and most of all never liked being told he couldn’t do what he, inevitably, was going to do anyways. If every doctor who had seen Joe in the past had had their way, Joe wouldn’t have even been a boxer at all, and that was never an option.

Unsurprisingly, the doctor Joe had been seeing sporadically over the past few months, since he began pursuing entrance to the Megalonia championship, was less than impressed with his condition. But the man was resigned to accept Joe’s lifestyle. He was quite happy to hear, if just for Joe’s health alone, that the championship was over. Maybe he could afford some real insurance and treatments, now, the doctor would joke.

The doctor seemed impressed with him, telling Joe he watched the match, how amazing it was. Joe couldn’t help the bittersweet feeling he was carrying deep in his chest since that night, just last night. So close yet so far, since the countdown finished and the alarms sounded.  

Talking about it only made the feeling grow like a weed, burrowing deeper into Joe’s lungs and winding around his ribs.

The examination proved his memory was still a little foggy in some places, but Joe was dismissed with orders to visit a dentist and prescriptions for some pain medication. He was to return for another check-up and some scans in a week’s time, but he was let off with much better results than he had expected.

He would still have to take a shit load of medication and be harassed by Nanbu for borderline violent muscle massages and stretches, but considering what he’d been through, the idea of that really wasn’t so bad.

Although he had been trying to keep his mind off of him all day, Joe’s thoughts constantly drifted back to Yuri, and whether or not his surgery had gone well. Was he able to regain consciousness? How complex was the surgery he was having? Was it okay for doctors to perform that procedure on him? Did they understand the mechanics of integrated gear, or did they have specialists in the hospital specifically for that stuff?

The questions swirled endlessly in Joe’s mind until nightfall, when he just couldn’t take the uncertainty any longer.

He checked his bandaged face in the bathroom mirror before heading to the front door, pulling his jacket on and reaching for his motorcycle keys in the pocket.

“Where you headed?” Nanbu asked as Joe passed him just outside, lounging in a lawn chair near a fire he had going to warm up the chilly night. Joe sat on his bike, pulling down his goggles and kicking back the kick-stand with his foot.

“For a drive,” Joe said. It wasn’t necessary that everyone know where he was headed. Despite his short answer, which under any other circumstances would be completely believable, Nanbu sniffed in that way he did sometimes, that way that told Joe he didn’t quite believe him.

“Be careful,” was all he said, taking a swig of his beer.

“I’ll try,” Joe responded with a wry grin, revving the engine before taking off into the night.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe considers his next steps, and continues to struggle with the aftermath of the match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW for chapter: mentions of blood)
> 
> The irony is not lost on me that the beginning of this fic has involved a lot of hospital mentions and scenes, only for me to have gone through something similar last December. This chapter has literally been in the works since Nov. 2018 if not earlier, but life had other plans for me and someone very close to me. And now it's APRIL. Things are better now. But that combined with work among many other things kept me very busy and distracted. 
> 
> I still care about this fic, Megalo Box and yujoe. And guys, your comments and kudos throughout this time have been so, so lovely. Honestly, every single one has kept me going and wanting to do this. 
> 
> If you are still reading this fic or care about it, thank you.
> 
> And it's been a year since the anime came out, hell yeah! We're a small fandom but I hope we continue to grow. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to more, I'll do my best to get them out in a better time frame.
> 
> Thanks to @midoriverte and @sondeneige, my bros and lovely editors for their help and support. If you like Tokyo Ghoul, please check out their work!

Nanbu felt around for the mugs on the table and poured himself and Joe some freshly brewed coffee. Joe tried to offer to do it, but Nanbu was stubborn and insisted trial and error was the only way to adjust to his loss of sight.

Joe knew he was right, though he still worried about him handling things like steaming hot liquids by himself. He also knew Nanbu would hate to be coddled, and would sooner burn himself than accept anything resembling pity.

It was about eight in the morning, and the warm and rich scent of the coffee lifted Joe’s tired spirit.

“If you keep staying up late and waking up early you’re not gonna recover very quickly, Joe…” Nanbu said.

Joe grunted with mild annoyance in response, the bags under his eyes testament to how much he understood. His eyes shifted to Nanbu, who sat at the table next to him. The previous night had only been Joe’s second late night out at the hospital, but his body wasn’t having it this time, and it was apparent to Nanbu as well.

Not only was he exhausted, but the night had been a bust anyways. He had yet to see Yuri again, and to his dismay the staff weren’t even allowed to tell him – yes, specifically _him_ \- anything besides “Yuri is recovering” or “he’s sleeping right now”.

Joe wasn’t one hundred percent certain that Nanbu knew what he had been up to, but judging by his reaction to the first time he disappeared and stayed out late, he probably had some inkling.

“I’m just saying,” the older man continued.

“Yeah, I got it,” Joe mumbled as he leaned down, the steam from his coffee wafting up and heating his face. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the silence. Nanbu was quiet, stirring sugar into his coffee for a minute before cutting the silence again, to Joe’s irritation.

“Just cause you’re Megalonia champion doesn’t mean you get to slack off-“

“Nanbu…” Joe slurred out in a warning, sounding like his younger delinquent self from years before. Joe blinked one eye open, haphazardly glaring at the man.

Nanbu was smirking at him, and Joe could only shake his head in response. What a pain this guy was. Joe wasn’t really mad at him though, he was just not a morning kind of guy.

An hour or so later, when Nanbu and Joe were sitting out front in what they generously called their yard, a sleek black car with dark tinted windows rolled up to the property. Two men in suits with dark glasses stepped out, and Joe stiffened with concern that this had something to do with Fujimaki.

He was quickly reassured when Nanbu lifted a hand, stopping him from going forward as if he had expected their arrival.

The men greeted Nanbu and nodded to Joe, offering firm handshakes and congratulations as they were lead inside the houseboat by Nanbu himself. He only later explained to Joe, after the men had left, that they were representatives of Yukiko Shirato. She had told him some of her employees would be around within the next week to discuss Joe’s winnings and title.

Joe had been, as Nanbu said, “out of it” when Yukiko’s rep approached them almost immediately post-match, making it impossible for Joe to register what had been taking place. Joe didn’t really care about the whole business side of the sport anyways, not really. As long as he got paid for his work and could survive, he was fine.

The men stayed for a brief forty-five minutes, politely refusing any refreshments and delving quickly into business matters, popping open their expensive leather briefcases to reveal segmented and clipped files of various types of paperwork. They informed Joe and Nanbu of their rights, potential brand deal opportunities and associated legal matters, their winnings, and lastly, how said winnings would be safely transferred into Joe’s possession.

Joe’s eyes widened when he was reminded of just how much they had won; he wasn’t sure how to process it, or what they would even do with it.

The men also handed him a card, addressed to him from Yukiko herself.  

 

_Congratulations, Gearless Joe._

_I wish you luck in your future endeavors._

_Yukiko Shirato_

To the point and distant, just as expected from Yukiko.  What Joe knew of her, at least. He supposed it was nice that she sent him anything at all, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was an assistant’s work. He couldn’t blame her if that were the case… she never quite liked Joe from what he could tell.

His first impression wasn’t exactly polite either; he blatantly rejected the purpose of Megalonia, her beloved project, and worst of all, he had directly influenced Yuri in breaking ties from Shirato, whether he had intended to or not.

Joe wouldn’t claim to know a lot about other people’s relationships, but anyone with eyes could see that Yuri had been Yukiko’s favourite toy, her prized possession, her most diligently trained dog of many loyal years. Joe still remembered, regretfully, having heard Yuri refer to her as his “owner”. The memory still unsettled him, just as it had then. Especially then, he’d had no idea what to make of their bizarre relationship.

Nevertheless, it only took a wild stray like Joe to come along and push Yuri to reject all that he knew through all those years.

All that loyalty, discarded.  And for what?

Something clearly couldn’t have been right between them if Yuri could do that, if he chose to do that, but it didn’t mean Joe didn’t feel somewhat at fault for it. It wasn’t some master plan, and he couldn’t take responsibility for it completely. Yuri made his decision. But Joe knew deep down, if Yuri hadn’t met him, the ‘break-up’, or whatever it was, between him and Yukiko wouldn’t have happened like this.

The fact that Yukiko still had the class and professionalism to send him a congratulatory message at all after that was respectable in his eyes. She was alright.

Joe reigned in his thoughts and tucked the card back into its ornate envelope just in time for one of the suited men to hand over a text-heavy, multiple-page agreement for him to read through and sign. He withheld a sigh, knowing the exhaustion he felt was his own fault. All of this business and paperwork were part of being the ‘Megalonia Champion’. He really shouldn’t complain…

But god damn that was a lot of paper.

 

~~~

 

When the necessities were sorted and the men headed out Joe stumbled up to his bed, hoping for a bit of shut-eye before the day picked up more speed than he could keep up with. Nanbu was agreeable of course, as he was the one on Joe’s ass the most about getting rest. He imagined Yukiko’s men weren’t the only ones who might be stopping by, and he wasn’t wrong.

He got about an hour of nap time before Sachio was yelling upstairs for him despite Nanbu’s protests.  Some of the neighbourhood kids had come by, wanting to see Joe’s newest and most famous black eye, poking at his Championship bruises and performing some of his own footwork as they re-enacted key moments from the fight. Joe didn’t even have the energy to tell them to cool it, a small smile on his lips as the kids gushed to him about the match and begged for his mentoring, in response to which Joe could only muster a snort of a laugh and a “we’ll see”.

When Nanbu finally wrangled the kids out of the house - bribing Sachio with ice cream for dessert for the next two nights in a row wasn’t exactly the smartest move, but it worked - Joe’s eyes had already slipped shut again, his body slumped against the side of the couch.

It felt like barely any time had passed before Joe’s eyes peeked open again, blinking with sleep. He sat up slowly and stretched, feeling incredibly rejuvenated for having passed out on the crappy, old couch. He squinted at the clock on the wall but couldn’t manage to focus his eyes.

Joe looked towards one of the windows and noticed the sky had darkened, lit up only in the distant horizon by the last vestiges of a deep pink sunset. In fact, the whole room was quite dark aside from the golden glow of a nearby lamp.

Did he really sleep the day away so easily?

He stood up and stretched his back out, wondering what Nanbu and Sachio might be up to. They were usually home and bickering about dinner by now, weren’t they?

The squeak of chair legs against tiles startled him, his head turning immediately toward the dark kitchen, noticing the shadowed figure sitting on one of the chairs.

“Nanbu…?” Joe asked, his eyes seeming even more blurry than before. He couldn’t quite make out the features of the silhouette.

“Joe,” came a surprisingly familiar and deep voice. The sound of it alone froze Joe instantly, his eyes wide.

 

It wasn’t him.

It couldn’t be.

But Joe would know that voice anywhere.

 

“Joe?” the voice prompted with concern, piercing the silence between them.

“Yu-“ Joe’s throat went dry, halting his voice. He swallowed hard, tried again.

“Yuri… is that you? How are you even here?”

The voice, Yuri’s voice, let out a soft chuckle, the sound smooth and knowing, just as Joe remembered it to be.

“What’s wrong, Joe?” Yuri questioned, any humour leaving him.

Joe’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’,” he stammered out, almost annoyed.

“I haven’t heard anything from the hospital. They said you’re okay but… it’s been two days already, I didn’t know if-“

“Joe,” Yuri’s voice came from the dark again, his form standing up. His voice reverberated through Joe’s body like a shock, stopping his train of thought and silencing him with ease. Even the room seemed to vibrate with the sound.

Yuri stepped toward Joe, ungracefully, clearly struggling to take a step. It made a loud sound as he limped forward.

Joe stood in place. He couldn’t see Yuri’s body in the darkness, just the form of it, but the way he was moving was unsettling.

Something was off.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joe’s voice trembled.

“I’m recovering,” Yuri responded, his voice sounding strained as he stepped forward again, wincing. Light illuminated Yuri’s lower half and began to clear Joe’s sight, details coming into focus as Yuri lurched forward again.

Joe looked at his feet, too afraid to look up at his face, at however he looked now. A drop of blood hit the tile, making Joe blink, his eyes automatically shifting up to Yuri’s face to find the source.

Blood trickled down from his scalp, a glistening red trail extending from his temple to his jawline where it broke and dripped to the floor. His face was bruised terribly, a mosaic of blues, purples and deep reds punctuated with swelling at his temple.

Joe didn’t know why, but his body was frozen in place. It was as if the closer the other man came, the less control Joe had over his own muscles.

He was shaking, but he could still manage to speak.

“Yuri,” his voice rasped out, trembling with concern, and a little bit of fear. “Something’s wrong. Tell me what’s happening to you, please. Is this because of me?”

“I told you, Joe. I’m recovering. Don’t worry.”

“No, this isn’t-“ Joe raised his voice, confused, his chest heaving with laboured breaths.

“Joe.”

The room vibrated with Yuri’s voice again, beginning to distort into something strange and distraught.

Yuri staggered forward again, lurching side to side in a disturbing gait, drops of blood falling to the floor with increasing frequency. A fresh crimson tear seeped from the corner of his pale lips.

Joe screwed up his eyes, unable to bear the sight of him. The blood kept coming, the mottled colours of his skin seemed to shift beneath the surface.

_No._

“Joe?” the voice called to him, warped and unlike Yuri anymore. Joe kept his eyes scrunched shut, even as ice-cold hands came to rest on his shoulders.

 

 “Joe!”

“Yuri!” Joe cried out.

He was suddenly able to move again, violently gasping himself awake into the early afternoon brightness of the family room. He thrashed forward, righting himself on the couch where he had been sleeping, several startled faces angled in his direction.

“Oh,” Joe panted heavily, blinking and realizing there were people around. He quickly scoped out the room, suddenly turning to search the kitchen with eager eyes. When he couldn’t locate anything suspicious, he turned back, squinting at Nanbu who stood right in front of him. His eyes were still adjusting to the sudden light, but he could tell there was a startled silence in the air.

He noticed Aragaki and Miyagi were standing just behind, outside the front door but still with a clear view inside, expressions rivaling the very concerned one etched into Nanbu’s features. Joe scrubbed his palm against his cheek.

“Joe… you alright buddy?” Nanbu spoke in a hushed tone, trying to create some privacy between them. He leaned closer to Joe and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to startle ya like that…”

“Ah,” Joe held his head, eager to gain control of the situation. “I’m fine. Don’t worry… just, gimme a second,” he tried to calm his breath as quickly as possible, but his brain was still processing his surroundings as well as the images that seemed to be quickly burning themselves into his memory, much like those from the hospital.

That’s just what he needed.

“Just a nightmare, I’m good,” he lied, to the knowledge of everyone present.

He could see Aragaki and Miyagi looking at each other behind Nanbu, before Aragaki met Joe’s eyes with concern. Joe nodded subtly in his direction, which the other man acknowledged with a brief nod himself before shutting the door, evidently to give Joe and Nanbu a moment alone.

How embarrassing, Joe thought. Though he was relieved to know that Aragaki and Miyagi were likely some of the last people who would judge him for having a nightmare.

Joe couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a vivid dream, with such graphic images at that.

Nanbu stood still and silent in front of him, his brow furrowed deeply in thought. Moments passed without a word between them.

Joe lifted a hand to rest atop Nanbu’s own, the man still holding onto his shoulder, trying to articulate something he couldn’t quite manage with words. Nanbu eased noticeably.

“You’re alright, Joe,” Nanbu’s hand squeezed once before slipping off his shoulder carefully, as if letting go would startle his friend. Joe wasn’t sure who Nanbu’s words were trying to reassure more.

“…I’m gonna head out to the yard, but, feel free to join in whenever you’re ready. The guys’ve been wantin’ to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded up at the man, watching him slip away to grab some chip bags and bottles from the kitchen counter gingerly. The bags crackled in his arms as he tried to make his way out the front door again, his movements tentative as he eased the door shut with a quiet click.

 

~~~

 

Joe sat there for a few minutes by himself, rubbing the stubble on his chin and trying not to grow paranoid from the nightmare. Could Yuri still be hurt, or suffering badly from his surgery?

Was it even his place to know?

Joe shook his head and ran his fingers along his scalp in an effort to relax himself. The employees at the hospital told him last time that after the surgery, Yuri was recovering, right? Just like Yuri said in the dream…

Even if they weren’t allowed to share much about him, he doubted they’d lie about something like that to a worried visitor, especially if Yuri’s true state of health was the complete opposite of that.

He hoped that was the case, at least.

Joe sighed, leaning forward and hanging his head down, staring at the floor between his knees.

What a joke. All of it. Was this really what things were gonna be like from now on?

Hearty laughter from outside could be heard through the door, pulling Joe out of his head. With some effort he stood, body aching and joints cracking loudly as he stretched and twisted himself back to some level of flexibility.

He headed to the bathroom and gave himself a quick once over in the mirror. His face, still painted in bruises and a variety of discolouration and swelling, gave him a sense of pride, even if they weren’t attractive. Even if they inspired cringing and widened eyes in those who looked his way. Many tried to hide it, but Joe recognized those expressions easily. It didn’t bother him.

Wounds heal. But Joe could sense that ridding himself of the emotional side-effects of that match might take quite a bit longer than usual.

 

~~~

 

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged out,” Abuhachi, their reliable mechanic and friend, joked as Joe approached the semi-circle of lawn chairs positioned round the unignited firepit. Four of five of them were occupied by beer-holding men with various degrees of grins on their faces.

Joe rolled his eyes and grabbed an empty seat. “Didn’t know you were here too, Abuhachi.”

The man’s grin was subtle, as always, with that glint in his eye like he knew far more than you ever could.

“Can’t get rid of me, Joe.”

“Wouldn’t want to.”

“Good answer,” Abuhachi replied, reaching into his back pocket and pulling a card out. He held it towards Joe, who stared at it.

“Well, go on, kid,” Abuhachi leaned forward, rocking the card between his fingers in front of him.

“You didn’t have to get-“

“I didn’t do it out of obligation. That’s for the determined punk I saw beat his way to the top of an international championship in three months. Take it.”

Joe smirked, taking the card and turning it over in his hand. “Well when you put it that way, it is kind of amazing isn’t it?”

Nanbu snorted aloud as Abuhachi slapped the back of Joe’s head lightly.

“Don’t let the fame get to you now,” Aragaki warned teasingly. “Don’t make me come out of retirement to remind you where you came from.”

Miyagi rolled his eyes, but the quirk of his lips didn’t go unnoticed. “Settle down, boys. I doubt anyone is in fighting shape today.”

“You can open that later,” Abuhachi  pointed to the card, and Joe nodded, slipping it into his pocket.

Miyagi flicked his wrist and nudged his hand against Aragaki’s forearm. The larger man nodded and sat up, pulling out a green envelope and holding it out to Joe as well.

“A little something from us too,” he explained, noticing the surprise on Joe’s face as he took it into his hand. “No need to read it now. Just some well-earned congratulations.”

Joe nodded and added the new card to his pocket, shaking his head with a smile.

“You guys are too much.”

“Pft,” Nanbu snorted. “Accept the praise while it’s fresh, kid.”

“As he should,” Miyagi nodded. “That was quite an incredible match, Joe. How many rounds did you and Yuri go?”

“Thirteen,” Nanbu cut in proudly before Joe could respond, unable to keep his grin off his face.

“Unbelievable,” Miyagi said, the awe in his voice palpable.

“I was really worried about you for a while there,” Abuhachi confessed, cutting in, “but you pulled through. It was quite a sight. Never thought I’d witness a match like that and I doubt any of us will ever again.”

“You and Yuri really make quite the pair of fighters, I’ve never seen chemistry like that in the ring,” Aragaki added, Miyagi nodding fervently in agreement next to him. “I couldn’t believe how intense it was.”

The attention from everyone was overwhelming, and Joe couldn’t do much but chuckle and nod along, peppering in some ‘thanks’ and a comment here and there. Though the mention of Yuri made him feel a pang of melancholy, the anxiety in his chest brewing.

“Yeah, he was the Champion for a reason,” he uttered, his voice low.

“Did you expect him to remove his gear?” Miyagi wondered out loud. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. He must truly respect you as a fighter to have had it removed before your match. I can’t imagine why else he’d have done it. A move like that ruins careers…”

The other men nodded, muttering various comments about how deadly a decision it was.

Joe swallowed hard.

“No, I didn’t expect it at all. I was pretty shocked too.”

“Hopefully his recovery is coming along well. I can’t imagine the side effects of removing integrated gear,” Abuhachi said, tightening the tension in Joe’s body like a screw. Everyone’s heads bobbed along in agreement and continued to discuss, commenting about Yuri’s impossible strength or Joe’s knock-out punch.

He tuned out of the conversation.

Joe couldn’t even remember a lot of the match, and some part of him was glad.

He didn’t feel like remembering yet.

There was a short discussion on Yuri’s injuries and Shirato’s fate without him too.

Joe only passively heard and barely responded, some yeah’s here and mhm’s there, staring out into the distance and wondering what it would feel like to be out on his motorcycle again, ripping through the sand on this dry desert evening.

“So,” Miyagi readjusted himself in his chair, sitting back and tilting his head. “What’re you gonna do now that Megalonia is over?” He looked between Joe and Nanbu, an inquisitive look on his face.

Joe knew that that question was coming sooner or later. Just a matter of time.

Nanbu cracked his neck from side to side.

“Well… we’ve been focused on Joe’s recovery first, so, I guess we haven’t thought too hard about it.”

Joe nodded.

“Now that I’ve achieved something like this, it’s kinda hard to imagine what I should be doing next. I never expected I’d get this far honestly.”

The others grunted their understanding.

“I’m not sure what I want to do with boxing… but I won’t be dealing with the underground matches anymore, that’s for damn sure.”

Aragaki made eye contact with Joe and gave a short but firm nod.

“Me neither,” Nanbu sighed. “They’ve got plenty enough from me to last a lifetime.”

A loud, teeth-sucking “tch” came from Abuhachi in response.

“Did you have to give your good eye too, Nanbu? Was that really a fair deal?” Abuhachi had his slightly judgemental tone on. Joe knew the older men didn’t think Nanbu was as cool for his actions as much as he was reckless for getting himself into such a situation to begin with.

”Got ‘em off my back, didn’t it?” Nanbu lifted his head to the air and sniffed.

“There are no fair deals with Fujimaki. Thinking that was my first mistake, way back when.”

“We’ve all made our fair share, I s’pose,” Abuhachi conceded, sparing Nanbu a grilling for now.

“At least you guys are free from that bastard,” Aragaki spoke up. “I can’t imagine going through Megalonia while dealing with that asshole breathing down your neck.”

“It was shitty,” Joe said. “But without his help we’d never have gotten in, so… that’s just how it went. It’s done now. I’m not worried about him anymore.”

Abuhachi scratched his neck in contemplation of Joe’s words.

“What he said,” Nanbu chuckled, gesturing his thumb in Joe’s direction. “I’m done with worryin’.”

“I guess you would be with those winnings under your belt, hm? You two should get yourselves a house or something. Get Sachio into school, maybe,” suggested Abuhachi, folding his hands together over his lap.

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “I don’t want him growing up like me any longer than he already has. I think that’s one of the first steps.”

“Good idea. And hey, if you need something to keep you busy, you could always come work with us at the gym,” Aragaki gestured to himself before looking over to Miyagi, who nodded in affirmation. “Nothing big but, gives you a place to be and I’m sure it’d draw some students if you wanted to teach or something.”

Joe could tell Aragaki was harbouring some worries about him, now that he was finished his competitive career too. Something about the way he kept making eye contact, and now making offers of work, it was becoming quite obvious. He also witnessed Joe waking from a nightmare, which Joe knew Aragaki was no stranger to. Joe could imagine what it might’ve looked like from his perspective. He wasn’t exactly a picture of health at the moment.

“Ah, thanks. That’s quite the offer. Not sure if I’ll be in the right shape for that just yet,” Joe thought back to the clinic doctor’s warnings, “but I’ll think it over.”

Miyagi looked over at Nanbu, who seemed to be deep in thought, neglecting the beer in his hand.

“Have either of you thought of reopening Nanbu’s gym? Or even, something brand new of your own?”

That caught Nanbu’s attention, his back straightening, head suddenly raised like a predator listening for prey.

If Joe was honest, he hadn’t been thinking very constructively about his future just yet, in fact he was avoiding thinking about it.

He had been distracted lately, to say the least. But the idea wasn’t half bad.

“I hadn’t thought of that but… it’s definitely something to consider.”

“Sure is. That’s up to you though, Joe,” Nanbu took a long swig of his beer, short on words considering the subject was one Joe knew interested the man greatly.

“Well,” Miyagi spoke, “if you do end up going that route, give us a call. This guy wouldn’t mind helping out the building efforts I bet,” he nudged Aragaki with his elbow. “He’s always looking for something to do.”

Aragaki laughed and nodded his head. “’Course I wouldn’t mind.”

“That’ll probably be me soon, too,” Joe mused.

“There’s always something to do at the shop, if you feel so inclined,” Abuhachi offered. Joe knew that wasn’t necessarily true, but Abuhachi liked having him around anyways.

“The Megalobox Champion working at an old automotive joint?” Nanbu laughed.

Abuhachi had a wise smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“Who is to say what the Champion should be doing. The Champion can do as he pleases.”

“He’s been doing as he pleases this whole time,” Nanbu quipped, as was his way, drawing chuckles and sounds of agreement out of the others.

 

Later on, when the guys headed home and after Sachio showed up for dinner, Joe brought up the idea of starting up a gym again.

Joe could tell Nanbu was interested, but he kept deflecting with comments like “it’s your money, kid” or “if that’s what you want”. The idea would excite Sachio too much, so they both kept the conversation under wraps for the time being.

As Joe lay in his futon that night, he wondered if teaching others boxing was something he’d like to do. Having his own gym hadn’t really even crossed his mind. He never thought he’d make it far enough to think that big. But here he was, contemplating how to not fuck it all up.

He stared up at the skylight, hoping the night sky would hold the answers for him.

It would be nice to talk to Yuri about this. He’d probably know what to do. He had a lot more experience with the business side of boxing than Joe ever did.

Joe sighed and turned over, finding himself, once again, fighting his mind’s desire to worry about his friend.

He wished he could just relax and leave it alone. Leave _him_ alone.

Yuri didn’t owe Joe anything even if he was awake and healthy, which he might be soon, if he wasn’t yet.

And he might not even care for something like friendship beyond their match.

It was a fluke they met, even if they had some kind of connection through boxing. It was just that.

Joe furrowed his brows in irritation.

He just wished he knew how to move on.

After a moment, he let out a deep breath.

 

Just one more time.

 

_I have to see him one more time._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My twitter is @swordfischh if you wanna talk to me or anything


End file.
